At length, in their childish prattle, one of them said he saw a great bunch on a tree. The other looked—shifted his position—looked again, and exclaimed that it was a man! This alarmed them both, and they called aloud, announcing the discovery to their friends on shore. The latter instantly returned, and Andrews, seeing himself observed, dropped from the tree, ran to the lower end of the island, took a small log, with a limb for a paddle, and shoved into the stream, hoping to reach the opposite shore before he could be overtaken. But there was another party with a skiff, lower down the river, who saw him, and rowed out to meet him. Thus enclosed, there was no hope, and he surrendered.
He was in a most wretched condition, having eaten nothing since he left the jail. His feet were all cut and bleeding from running over the sharp stones, and his back and shoulders were parched and blistered from exposure, unprotected, to the rays of the sun. He said he felt so miserable that the thought of the certain death, to which he then resigned himself, had no further terror for him.
He was brought back to Chattanooga, where a blacksmith welded a pair of heavy clevises on his ankles, and connected them with a chain only about eighteen inches in length. He had then but few more days to live, and his confinement was most rigid. They prepared a scaffold for him at Chattanooga, but the indications of an advance by Mitchel, induced them to change the death scene to Atlanta. All the way down to that place he was taunted with his approaching doom by the mobs who surrounded every station. Our eight comrades accompanied him to Atlanta, but parted as soon as they arrived—they going to prison, and he to the place of execution. He was compelled to walk, all ironed as he was, and the clanking of his chains no doubt made sweet music in the ears of these human bloodhounds.
He displayed great firmness when led to the place of execution, and mounted the scaffold without a tremor. When swung off, the rope by which he was suspended, stretched so that his feet came to the ground, but, nothing disconcerted, these wretches dug the earth away from under him and completed the murder! Thus died a good and brave man, at the early age of thirty-three, by the hands of rebels, for the crime of loving and trying to serve his country! He was engaged to be married to a young lady of his own adopted State the same month in which he suffered death on the scaffold!
It is now time to return to Wollam, whom we left outside of the jail-fence, trying to get away from Chattanooga.
He ran down to the river side, and seeing no way of crossing himself, hit on the brilliant ruse of making them believe that he was across. To this end he threw off his coat and vest, dropping them on the bank of the river, and then, after walking a few rods in the water to elude the hounds, quietly slipped back, and hid in a dense thicket of canes and rushes. He heard his pursuers on the bank above him, and all around, talking of their various plans. At last they found the clothes, and at once concluded that he had taken to the river. Then they took the bloodhounds over to the other side, and searched for the place of his exit from the water. The dogs could not find that, as might be expected, and then, after a due time spent in consultation, they concluded that he was drowned, and departing much comforted, searched no more for him.
After spending a day of most anxious suspense, the approach of night gave him an opportunity of leaving his hiding-place. He now cautiously made his way down the river on the Chattanooga side. At length he found a canoe, in which he rowed at night, and when morning came, he would sink it, and hide in the bushes; then in the evening raise it, and again pursue his way. Twice he passed the extempore gun-boat Mitchel had made, but feared it was some secession craft, and therefore crept cautiously by in the shadow of the shore, without being discovered. At last he thought he was beyond the danger of probable capture, and went boldly forward in the day time.
This was a fatal mistake. A band of cavalry, who were camped almost within our lines, saw him, and procuring a boat, came out to meet him. He was unable to escape, and thus the poor fellow was captured on the very brink of safety. He at first tried to persuade them that he was a Confederate, but, unfortunately, a Lieutenant Edwards, who had assisted in capturing him the first time, happened to be present, and at once recognized him. He was soon after taken to Atlanta, where the rest of the party then were.